Page 37 of It's in the Contract
I click my pen tip in and out. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been.”
Zeke’s eyes go huge. “What? Too touristy?”
I shake my head. “No . . .” I can’t say it. It’s too embarrassing. “I—I?—”
“Never had time?”
“No, I just?—”
Zeke gives me a concerned look, and it’s really sweet. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m terrified of heights.”
Zeke pauses. “Hmm. That is a tough fear to have.”
I put the notebook back in my backpack, hoping that that will signal the end of our list-making for now. “You’re not going to make fun of me? Or push me to go rock climbing or something?” That’s what Noah did when he first found out about my fear. He took me on a surprise date to a rock climbing place. It was indoor, and padded, and supposedly completely safe, and he had this plan to help me get over my fear, but I just couldn’t do it. I screamed and made a complete idiot of myself.
Zeke looks surprised. “Why would I do that? Everyone has different things they’re afraid of.”
“Yeah?” I say, relaxing just a tad. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“Spiders,” Zeke says without hesitation.
“Spiders?” I laugh. “You’ve come to the wrong place. They are everywhere here. Before we moved to the neighborhood we’re in now, we lived in a smaller house that had two bushes on eitherside of the front door. Every day I’d leave the house and have to wave a stick in front of my face or I’d hit a spiderweb.”
Zeke shivers. “Oh my holy fudge. Don’t tell me that.”
“Why spiders? Did one bite you as a kid?”
Zeke shakes his head. “No, nothing like that.” He picks up a dragon figurine from the D&D table and examines it. “They’re just . . . so creepy and ugly. Have you seen pictures of them up close, with their eight eyes and just . . . ewww.” A shudder rolls through Zeke’s body.
I can’t help but laugh. “They are gross.”
“I am utterly terrified of them.” Zeke smiles, and he’s so relaxed, so unafraid to admit to being who he is. How does he do that?
“Well, that’s how I feel about heights,” I say. “I know it’s closed in. I know theoretically we won’t fall off, but I can’t go up there. I can’t.”
Zeke sets the figurine down and reaches in my backpack with a questioning eyebrow. I nod. He takes out the notebook and pen and flips open to the page of things we want to do. He scribbles something and then hands it to me.
On the notebook I read, “Space Needle. But only if Callie is ready.”
My heart warms.
I can’t face that fear, but Zeke’s thought is sweet. I know he won’t push me to do something I don’t want to do.
Fifteen
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Instagram caption by @star-bucks.
The smellin the air is intoxicating, and my mouth is already watering at the scents of cinnamon, nutmeg, and the burnt bitterness of coffee. The first Starbucks ever built is homey and quaint, with a wood-paneled counter to place orders and black tables covered in green tablecloths. Baristas are busy making oat milk lattes and frothing coffees. The counter features a display case of blueberry muffins and cranberry bliss bars, and the chalk sign on the wall has daily specials written in swirling letters. Someone’s hand drawn a pumpkin with curving vines across the bottom of the sign.
I’m seated at a table, waiting, and I have yet to place my order. Zeke is supposed to meet me here for our first Seattle outing, and I’m nervous for some reason. I wanted to invite other people to be with us, but Suzy is helping her parents at Korea House, and Kayla is helping Dana decide on her next hair color or something. All the other girls—Chelsea, Nicole—I don’tknow very well. Especially since Zeke is so new to our group, it might be better that it’s just me and him for now. We’re still getting to know each other and the boundaries of this whole “fake friend” thing.
I’m posting a story to my Instagram page when Zeke strides through the door with his long legs, his black curly hair dewy from the misty afternoon.
Zeke’s eyes find me. They light up, and I smile. I stand and touch Zeke’s elbow, guiding him to the counter.
